Sylla feels that same excitement flare in her chest that comes about when she is facing down a new duel - adrenaline, an anticipatory anxiety, if she could call it that - when Dimi reaches out to run his hand through her hair. She doesn't dare look away from his eyes, even as the light fades from the tiny room. She doesn't like to give control to anyone else, but she. . .rather enjoys the feeling of helplessness, of needing to be guided? Of having someone approach her so close. She can be powerless for now, she thinks to herself, before she stops overthinking everything completely.

She lets out a small surprised murmur when he kisses her, without meaning to, which makes her smile against his lips and makes her cheeks warm with an unseen blush. She doesn't have to apologize, she thinks to herself, and leans herself against him more, reaching her arms up around his shoulders. This time she feels as if she is kissing him, which is a far more comfortable, reciprocal situation.